


Wish I Was Her Gun

by Merfilly



Series: Comics Kink Bingo Fics [5]
Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Gunplay, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:43:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1349497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate knows better than to watch her clean her weapons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish I Was Her Gun

Nate had learned the hard way that Dom had her moments when she really didn't feel like being touched or much else. Sometimes, he would just have to back fully off the relationship between them and go about handling things on his own.

She didn't make it easy, though, especially right after a mission. They had an easy silence between them much of the time, having grown accustomed to each others' moods and habits, but when she was being touch-me-not, he had to grit his teeth from filling the air with words.

Mostly, he needed to talk to keep from noticing her, from letting what she did affect him. She would strip off the armor, staying in just her underwear, not wanting a shower just yet. No point, she always said, in getting clean before the gear is.

He could see her now, sitting across the room from him, her little black underwear barely hiding anything, the surprisingly lacy bra hugging her breasts tight to her body. He should leave the room, because he knows what's coming, but damn if she isn't the hottest woman he's ever had the pleasure of knowing so intimately.

Each piece of gear gets picked up, inspected, cleaned. The way she runs the rag with its oil over the armor is obscene enough, removing the muck and leaving it with a dull sheen that will fade once the oil is completely soaked in.

No, it's once she turns to her guns that he knows he's fucked. She takes each one, lovingly caressing the barrels, the grips, milking the handles in her hands to be sure she still has the right feel of them each. Disassembly is quick, precise, and prelude to more torture. The look of intense concentration on her features as she slides the barrel brush in and out makes Nate adjust his pants.

The way her hand run the rag over the outside of the barrel makes him want to stand up and go pick her up, carry her to bed, and fuck with abandon. She's the only one that makes him lose sight of who and what he is, but he can't have her right now. She's in her own world, making love to each of those guns she carries, like she knows they're the only thing that won't betray her in life.

She might just be right, given how screwed up his whole family is, and the shit they do.

He watches as she puts the long barrel shotgun back together, and he feels his pants are way too tight to be doing this. She carefully puts the anti-corrosion oil on a new rag, and starts to stroke it up and down the barrel, a little twist of her wrist as she buffs it in to the metal. He bites his tongue, though, and wonders if she knew what this did to him, if she would still share her ritual with him. Especially when she's in this mood.

He won't ever let her find out. As she puts all her things away, gathering the gear up to put away, he remains just where he is. She goes for the shower, leaving him there, leaving him wishing he was one of her guns.

His shower's going to be a long one, as he waits for it, cock hard and wishing she felt like fucking.


End file.
